


Let the rain wash our hearts together

by A_reluctant_dreamer



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Sex, Consensual Underage Sex, Ex-con bar owner Tony, M/M, POV Tony Stark, Stranded Peter, Tony really tries to resist but it's Peter so..., Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 16:02:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18449930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_reluctant_dreamer/pseuds/A_reluctant_dreamer
Summary: Tony leads a quiet life at the gay strip bar he owns. He tends the bar, runs the place and most importantly makes sure that everything remains entirely above board. He's been to prison and had enough of it, thank you very much. That's why he overreacts when Peter Parker enters his place one night. It doesn't matter that the boy's car has broken down and that he's soaked to the bone. He's clearly underage and Tony has only one thing on his mind: to get rid of him as quickly as possible. The only complication is that Peter is really, really beautiful...





	Let the rain wash our hearts together

Tony owns a gay stripper bar in the outskirts of the city. It’s a dark, dodgy sort of place, but despite the appearances it’s wholly above board. Tony doesn’t pimp his boys out. He knows that they follow the guest outside to do whatever they’ll do for money, but it’s their business. He doesn’t deal drugs either. He’s aware that some are using. It doesn’t particularly bother him. He’s tried more than most in his time. But after serving time for it, the appeal’s kind of lost.

Tony leads a peaceful life. He’s on good terms with his boys and with the police, too. So the boys never meet the cops without a heads-up and the cops never find anything they shouldn’t. It works fine. Tony lives in the small apartment above the bar and enjoys the routine of running his place.

He tends the bar every night without a fail. It’s his way of keeping an eye on things. That’s how he notices the boy entering. He walks up to him swiftly. A minor has nothing to do in a strip club. He’s not looking forward to going back to prison, though the police is not due until next weekend.

“You can’t be in here,” he says without preamble. He steps close to the boy both to stop him coming farther in and to hide him from view. Tony trusts his boys but not his guests. He doesn’t want anyone to go snitching to the police.

“I… I know, I-” the boys begins, eyes wide and gesticulating widely. “I’m sorry it’s just that-” he shuts it and gulps as Tony raises a hand to stop him.

“You are underage. You have no business here.” Fuck, but he’s handsome. The sharp jawline and the dark eyes hold the promise of the face of a man. But it’s still a stuttering boy standing in front of him. “Get out.”

“Please, sir,” the boy all but whines. “It’s raining really heavily outside and my car broke down and I thought-” he says it all very quickly. Tony takes a step forward. The boy takes one back, reaching out with his hand to feel how far he can go.

“You thought wrong, boy.” He needs to get him outside. Tony nods towards the door, then directs his most severe gaze at the stranger. When he takes another step back, Tony follows him. The boy stares up at him, searching his face half hopeful, half scared. Tony doesn’t relent. He reaches for the door handle behind the boy’s back making him take another step back until his back hits the wall.

Tony stares at him for a few second before glancing back over his shoulder to see if someone has taken over the bar. They did. Tony waits until one of the boy’s gaze darts towards the door and nods before opening the door and pushing the stranger outside.

Tony’s soaked sooner than he can speak. The boy looks so betrayed as a chucked-out puppy. Tony groans in frustration.

“Spit it out, kid,” he snaps.

The boy’s expression turns more hopeful. He shouldn’t be so trusting. At least he doesn’t stutter anymore. “My car broke down farther out of town. I’ve walked like two miles. Please, sir, could I stay the night. I- I don’t have any money to call a mechanic or a cab,” he finishes lowering his gaze.

He looks so lost, standing out there in the rain, his head hung. Tony feels his resolve waver. He leans against the door frame and raises an eyebrow. “Old enough to drive, are you?” The boy looks up. Defiance flashes in his eyes before the meekness returns. He nods.

“But you are underage.” Another nod. This is not going to do. “How old are you, kid?”

“Stop calling me-” he starts but stops. His eyes widen in horror as he realises, he might just have blown his chance to get shelter. “Sorry, sir. I shouldn’t have… I’m seventeen, sir.

“Are you really?” Tony muses. God, this boy is such a tease. Tony wonders if he knows it. “Let me see your ID then,” he barks, pushing himself off the wall and stepping closer to the boy.

He pulls out the card and hands it to Tony without hesitation. Fuck he’s so young. He’s practically a kid in that photo. Tony swallows hard. He looks up at the young man standing in front of him. A raindrop falls from his eyelashes. It could be a tear. Tony follows its way down to his lips, then turns back to the card in his hand.

Peter Parker. It suits him. 2001. Tony flinches. “Can’t help,” he says shoving back the card to the boy. Fuck. He needs to get rid of him.

“Hey,” he cries in indignation. “What’s your problem? My ID doesn’t make me any younger! Look, please, sir. I won’t disturb. You can let me in from the back,” he pleads, but he must see the horror in Tony’s eyes because tears well up in his eyes. He shakes his head and presses on, begging him “I’ll… I’ll go back and sleep in my car,” his voice almost breaks, but he continues, “just please give me some dry clothes. Please, sir.”

Tony wants to punch something. Instead he grabs the boy’s shirt and stares down at him. “You won’t,” is all he manages to get out. The mere thought of this boy sleeping in a broken car out in the middle of nowhere makes him sick.

“Fuck. Fuck!” He releases the boy. He looks petrified. “Shh, kid, I’m sorry. Go to the back. Wait there. Make sure you stay out of view from the parking lot.”  
Peter’s eyes widen, but he nods instantly. “I will, sir. Thank you, sir.”

Tony watches him go and only moves when Peter disappears behind the building. He’s soaked, even his leather jacket didn’t do much against the downpour. He’ll need an explanation. Tony shakes his head to get the water out of his eyes and heaves a sigh before punching himself hard in the face. It hurts, but nowhere near as much as being caught with a minor would.

He walks back to the bar, glancing carefully around the room. Nothing seems out of place.

“Did he leave?” one of the boys tending the bar asks him.

“Took some convincing,” Tony grumbles grabbing some ice and pressing it against his cheek.

“Want to call it a day, boss? We’ll stay ‘til closing,” the other boy offers. Tony would want nothing more. The thought of Peter waiting for him out in the cold rain is killing him, but he has to keep up appearances.

“I’m fine,” he grunts and pours a whisky to himself. Go back to the pole. You stay and put some clothes on,” he says to the other. They don’t argue.  
It’s one of the longest half hours of Tony’s life. Fortunately, the guests slowly start to leave. It’s nearing 1 AM on a weekday. There are still three men in the booths though, but Tony can’t stand it any longer.

"You close up when they’re gone. Drop the keys off to the usual place,” he says to the boy at the other end of the bar. He barely waits for the yes, boss before leaving through the back door.

No matter how much he wants to, he can’t run to the back entrance. Some of the boys who are done for the night are still there. Tony says good night to them and walks out and find Peter there, shivering, trying to find shelter from the rain by flushing against the wall. The look of betrayal is back on his face.

“Sorry, kid,” Tony says, stepping closer and pulling him to his side. “Had to make it seem like you’ve left,” he explains. “Come on, let’s go up.” He looks around before ushering Peter towards the stairs that lead up to his apartment.

Once they are inside, Tony throws his jacket down and is nearly out of his shirt before he reaches his bedroom. He pulls out dry clothes and goes back to the hall, half naked. Peter is still standing there in his soaked clothes, shivering.

“Come on, get those things off, you don’t want to get sick. Here’s something for you to wear,” he extends his hand towards the boy, but doesn’t hand him the clothes. “Come in, it’s warmer in the bedroom. No heater in the hall.”

Peter follows him. Tony goes into the bathroom to change. He dries his hair somewhat with a towel and gets out a clean one for Peter. Those curls will take more time to dry. He knocks before re-entering the bedroom.

“Come in,” Peter says. He’s busy tying the sweatpants Tony’s given him. They are too big for him, but they’ll do. He looks up and smiles for the first time. It’s still hesitant and shy, but it’s a good sign.

“Thank you, sir.”

“Tony. Tony Stark,” he offers.

“Thank you, Mr. Stark,” the boy hurries to correct.

Tony chuckles. “Call me Tony, Peter.”

The boy flushes. That’s new. Tony’s gaze lingers on him until the boy looks down, embarrassed. Tony can’t help a smirk. “Want a cup of tea? To warm you up.”  
Peter looks at him still a bit pink but smiling again. “Yes, please, si-, miste-, um, Tony.”

“No problem,” Tony laughs. “Go dry your pretty curls ‘til I make it,” he adds, nodding towards the bathroom. He sees Peter’s blush deepen, before he leaves for the kitchen.

He spikes his own tea with another shot of whisky and gets out some honey for Peter. He waits, leaning against the kitchen until the sound of the hair dryer stops. He listens to Peter’s steps before calling out to him.

“In here.” Tony walks over to sit on the couch. He extends a cup towards Peter with a smile when he appears in the door. “Come in.”

Peter does. He stands over Tony but doesn’t take the mug. Tony can tell that he’s eyeing the bruise forming on his cheek.

“You hurt yourself.” His voice is low. It’s not a question.

“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it, kid.”

“I’m not-” Peter begins but bites his tongue. He takes his cup and sits next to Tony.

“But see, you are. I was already in prison when your pretty mama gave birth to you.”

“Don’t,” Peter snaps and this time there is no hesitation in his voice. “Don’t talk about my mother like that!”

Tony feels that he stumbled upon something. Peter’s not meeting his eyes.

“Sorry. Is she gone?” he ventures. No answer, but Peter squeezes his mug harder. “I’m sorry, Peter. Didn’t mean it as a slur. I’m sorry.”

Peter looks surprised, but this time Tony gets an answer. “It’s okay.”

They drink their tea in silence for a few minutes. Tony can feel Peter glance at him a few times, but he doesn’t say anything. Peter finishes his drink and puts the mug down on the coffee table.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Tony says, placing his cup next to Peter’s. “Want another?”

Peter shakes his head. His eyes never leave Tony now, so he turns towards the boy with a questioning expression. Peter reaches out tentatively and brushes a light finger against the bruise on Tony’s face.

“Should I clean it?” he asks in a low voice, his expression bordering on reverence.

Tony swallows hard. It takes an inordinate amount of self-control not to cup Peter’s hand and start kissing his palm. Tony clears his throat before answering.

“You are very quick to trust an ex-con,” he remarks. “Look at you, so eager, offering your help…” His words sting, he knows, but he needs to push the boy away. It’s wrong to have him here even without touching him.

Peter blushes but doesn’t look away. He raises his chin and asks in his sweet low voice.

“What were you convicted for?”

“For possession and driving under the influence. But mostly for a beautiful boy like yourself.” Fuck, he shouldn’t have said that. Peter blushes but holds his gaze. Tony looks away. He picks up his mug and drinks deep before continuing.

“We were driving one summer night. Cop pulled us over. And my friend,” he all but spits, “you see, he sucked his way out of trouble. Pity the cop didn’t want to come twice that night,” he finishes bitterly.

“I’m sorry,” Peter says.

Tony can’t fight his laughter. The absurdity of both that answer and their whole situation hits him hard. Peter joins him after a few seconds.

“Well, not that. But that you went to jail,” he manages eventually.

“You’re good, ki-” Tony catches himself. “Peter… You are good,” he repeats, his gaze lingering a moment too long on Peter’s smiling lips.

Tony considers asking Peter what brought him away from home this late on a- fuck. On a fucking school night. He doesn’t. Tony has the unsettling suspicion that if the boy didn’t know before what a perfect tease he can be, he’s definitely realised by now. But he still hasn’t got any idea how to use it, for which Tony feels infinitely grateful.

He doesn’t look at Peter when he speaks next.

“You can sleep here on the couch.”

When he doesn’t hear Peter reply, he turns towards him. The boy speaks immediately.

“Yes, okay, that’s… that’s fine. Thank you.” Fuck. Why does he sound like someone being caught while getting off? Tony fights back a groan. The sooner Peter sleeps the better.  
“Good,” Tony lies, standing up. “Let me get you a blanket. Do you need something else to sleep in?” he gestures vaguely towards Peter’s body to indicate his clothes.

This time the answer comes right away. “I’m good, thanks. Can I help?” Peter asks, already standing up.

Tony shakes his head and walks out of the room. He wants to punch something. What the fuck was he thinking about when he gave wild berry tea to Peter? As if those lips needed to be any pinker. Fuck. He’s so fucked.

No, he can get through this. He rummages in the wardrobe for another blanket. He pulls out a soft pillowcase for the boy, too. Tony takes a steadying breath before returning to the living room.

“Here. Is it going to be warm enough or do you want another, too?”

Peter takes away the blanket and nods without looking at it, his eyes glued to Tony. Then he catches himself and casts down his eyes. He starts fidgeting with the pillowcase. “Yes, thank you,” he mumbles. Tony can literally hear his blush. It takes a great deal of restraint not to walk over to Peter and -

No. Tony won’t do any of those things, but he walks over to him. “Let’s tuck you in. It’s been a long day,” he says taking the pillowcase from Peter and putting it on one of the more comfortable pillows. “Don’t look at me like that,” he says cocking his head. “I’ll make you breakfast in the morning, too.”

“I’m not a child,” Peter sulks and it’s the one and only moment he actually looks childish. He seems to realise it, too, because he doesn’t continue. Tony grins at him. At first, Peter is tense, but then he shrugs, an embarrassed smile spreading on his face.

“Bedtime,” Tony says and holds up the blanket for Peter to get under it. Peter looks ready to murder him but lies down with a huff. “You good?” Tony asks. “Comfy and all?”

“Fuck off,” Peter snaps.

Tony laughs and walks to the door. “Good night,” he says before turning off the lights.

He shuts his door behind himself and leans against it. Fuck. It was close. He needs to sleep. But first he needs to get this tension out of his system. He groans. There is no way he could get off now without thinking about Peter. He can’t. He won’t at least while the boy’s sleeping on his couch.

Tony goes to bed, prepared for a disturbed sleep at best. He flicks on his reading lamp and stares at the ceiling. It doesn’t do much though, to prevent mental images forming in his mind of raindrops running down on cherry lips or soft, freshly dried curls. Tony groans. It will be a long night.

He turns to his side deciding to stare at the wall for a time instead of the ceiling, when he hears a soft knock on the door. At first, he thinks - he hopes - that he misheard, but then the door opens. Tony sits up.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” comes the answer in the shiest of whispers. “Can I use the bathroom?”

“Of course,” Tony says, relieved, though not knowing why. Peter is still not asleep and they are in the same room again. Well, not momentarily, but too close as it is. Tony tries not to listen to the noises Peter make. He leans back on his pillow and only sits up again when he hears the door open.

Peter is standing there in his overly large clothes, illuminated by the harsh neon of the bathroom and the warm light of Tony’s lamp. It doesn’t make any difference, Tony thinks. No light will make him any older. Nor any less handsome.

Peter turns off the lights in the bathroom but doesn’t move otherwise. He slowly raises his head and meets Tony’s gaze. Tony should look away. He doesn’t. Peter takes a step closer. Tony moves closer to the side of the bed. He means to stand up and push Peter away, but he doesn’t. All he does is staring into those mesmerising dark eyes.

Tony still doesn’t move when Peter takes another step towards him. Their knees are touching now. Peter reaches out to trace a finger down from Tony’s forehead, along his temple and jawline to his chin. Tony takes his wrist. He means to push his hand away. But then the boy steps even closer and straddles him.

Tony loses himself in the sensation. He brings Peter’s hand to his lips and kisses his palm like he wanted to. The sounds Peter makes goes straight to Tony’s cock. He's been half hard ever since he came back to his room and Peter's hand on his shoulder, his sweet taste of his skin, the brush of his cock against Tony's - they are not helping Tony think clearly. No, they make it damn near impossible.

"Peter," he begins but he has no idea what to say. He's fucked up when he kissed him. And now the boy’s fingers are in his hair, pulling on him gently, turning his head up so that he's facing Peter. The boy looks at him, taking him in, shy and blushing but hungry at the same time. His gaze keeps returning to Tony's lips and he leans in for a kiss.

Tony pulls back but despite his best effort it's more like teasing than anything. "Peter," he tries again. "Stop," he mouths against Peter's lips. He doesn't and by that point Tony's too far gone to resist. Peter's lips taste even more delicious than they looked. His kiss is soft and caring. Tony's not sure he's ever been kissed like this before. He brings his hands up the boys back to pull him closer. Peter moans and continues kissing him like the angel he is.

But Tony can't go on like this. What they are doing is wrong, it's so horribly wrong and the worst is Tony has no idea how bad it actually is. What if Peter thinks he expects him to, in exchange for giving him shelter? Tony can’t bear the suspicion.

"Peter," he says breaking their kiss. He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment so that he can tear his gaze apart from Peter's swelling red lips. "Why are you doing this? We shouldn't, you know we shouldn't." Fuck. What he shouldn't do is sound so much like pleading – pleading, but not for the right thing.

"I... I just... You. The way you pinned me to the wall," Peter says in barely more than a whisper. "The way you grabbed me," he continues speaking against Tony's jaw, practically kissing him with every word. "Then you walked out half naked and I-" his breath hitches, and he grinds down on Tony. Fuck. They're both hard by now.

“You like me, huh?” Tony asks voice bitter and lustful at the same time. “Calloused old man who takes pity on the innocent…”

Peter lets go of his shoulder to cup his face. His touch is feather-light, he takes care to avoid the bruise on Tony’s cheek. Peter looks him deep in the eyes, holding him like this, one hand on his jaw, the other on the back of his head. Tony is certain that he’s never been touched liked this in his life. The look on Peter’s face is so unguarded, Tony can see everything that’s going on inside him. And incredibly, all he finds is desire and – for some unfathomable reason – admiration.

“Peter I’m not-” he begins, but Peter brushes his thumb against his lips, and he can’t go on.

“You are not bad,” the boy says. “I can tell.”

“Maybe,” Tony says. It hurts to form words when they are like this. “But you are innocent and I am not. I’ll corrupt you.”

“I-,” Peter blushes. “I’ve done this before.”

“Have you now?” Tony asks. A protective urge flares up in him. Peter nods with downcast eyes. “Were they good to you? Were they gentle?”

Peter moans and grabs Tony’s shoulder. He’s trying so hard not to grind on Tony’s lap, it’s both maddening and endearing.

“Not like you,” Peter whispers. “I’ve never wanted-” his eyes widen. Tony keeps staring back at those shining dark eyes. “I, I didn’t know it can be this much…” Peter finishes.

“Fuck, baby, you’re too good, too precious for me,” Tony groans. Speaking these words are more painful than it should be. “Please, Peter, don’t do this. You’ll regret it. I’m… not what you think.” Fuck. He is not, but god, he wants to be. It’s insane. This boy has him under his spell.

“I won’t. You’ll be gentle. I know. Please, Tony,” Peter says, trembling in his arms.

“Fuck,” Tony swears before pulling him down for a kiss. It’s nothing like their first one, and yet it is. It’s hungry, almost feral but still tender. It must be Peter’s way and Tony loves it.

They both moan when their tongues touch. Peter tastes of wild berry tea and mint toothbrush. He’s hot, so hot and eager, opening his mouth to welcome Tony and accepting his rhythm in a heartbeat. Tony has never felt so desired before. He puts a hand on Peter’s hip and starts rocking him there. The sensation is phenomenal and the grateful moans that escape Peter make it even better. Tony has no idea how much time passes before they break their kiss. Peter is whimpering. His cock must be aching. He’s young, not used to being on edge for so long.

“How do you want me, baby?”

Peter opens his eyes. It takes a few seconds for him to focus, but his face is lit up by a blissful smile. He pushes his fingers in Tony’s hair and leans his forehead against his. Tony presses a kiss on his lips. “Tell me, Peter.”

“Raw, I want you raw. I’m clean,” Peter whispers. Tony nearly comes in his pants. Fuck. It wasn’t the answer he expected. He grabs the back of Peter’s neck to pull him down for a kiss as his hips buck up into him.

“Fuck. Wanna make me come like this?” he breathes, nuzzling the crook of Peter’s neck once their kiss ended.

“No,” Peter shakes his head. “Want you to come inside me. Are you… are you clean?”

Tony shivers. Peter’s killing him. But at least he’s careful, even if trusting Tony to tell the truth at this moment is foolish. Tony does, however, and he’s never been happier about it.

“Yes, yes I am,” he nods then bites down on Peter’s delicious neck. Peter shudders and it makes their cocks brush against each other. Tony’s leaking precum and he can’t stand the teasing much longer. He pulls away from Peter’s skin with a disappointed moan, but the feeling fades when he pushes Peter’s t-shirt up. His ivory skin is a sight to behold and Tony can’t wait to kiss his way along his slightly toned abs and hips. Peter raises his arms and Tony takes his cue to pull the t-shirt off him.

“Stand up,” Tony tells him, and Peter complies without question. He looks down at Tony, flushed both with desire and self-consciousness. “God, you are beautiful,” Tony whispers, pressing his face against the soft skin, trailing his hand down on Peter’s side. He kisses Peter’s navel, which elicits a ticklish laugh from the boy. It soon turns into a moan as Tony proceeds towards his hipbone, biting down on it gently and lavishing it with his tongue.

Tony hums in pleasure when he feels Peter’s fingers in his hair. He starts moving upwards and rises to reach Peter’s nipples and shoulders with his mouth. His knees shake a little when he puts weigh on them, but Peter steadies him with a hand on his upper arm. Tony stands up straight and looks down on him. Peter blinks a few times, lips slightly parted, eyes dazed, then he looks down and reaches for the hem of Tony’s t-shirt.

Tony’s surprised to feel a bit nervous under the boy’s gaze. Peter’s already told him that he likes him, but Tony knows that up close his age shows. His muscles are not as firm as they once were and some of hairs on his chest are turning white. The tattoo on his side is a bit faded, too. He didn’t bother having it touched up for years. But Peter looks at him as if he was a Greek god. The boy traces a light finger over his shoulder, his chest, his side, brushing against his tattoo, then on his abdomen, right down the line of hair that goes down the hem of his pants.

Tony’s breath hitches when Peter hugs him. The boy is smaller than him, not by much, but he still rises on his toes to wrap his arms around Tony, their half naked bodies flush against each other. “You feel so good,” Peter whispers in his ear. Tony is speechless. He just holds the boy and revels in the amazing sensation.

When Peter stands back, they look at each other and reach for each other’s pants at the same time. Tony let Peter’s drop down as soon as he got the boy’s beautiful, leaking cock out. He hears Peter gasps when he glimpses Tony’s dick. Tony flushes. He’s not particularly big or aesthetic, but the admiration he sees on Peter’s face make him feel like the most desirable man in the whole wide world. He can’t resist taking them both in his hand and stroking a few times, watching as the glistening heads touch, mixing their pre-come together.

When he sees a new drop shine in Peter’s slit, he falls on his knees and takes his cock in his mouth. Peter cries out and grabs his hair. Tony takes him all the way in and swallows around him before pulling away. He doesn’t want Peter to come yet, but he wants to show him what pleasure means. “Can you take it?” he asks, voice hoarse. “Can you take it without coming?”

Peter’s eyes are squeezed shut. Tony can see that he wants to nod but can’t. He bites his lip. “Look at you, baby, so honest, so beautiful. You want it so bad, don’t you?” This time Peter nods instantly. “Take a deep breath, yes, that’s it. Take your time,” Tony instructs, caressing Peter’s thighs soothingly. His eyes never leave Peter’s face. He smiles when Peter opens his eyes eventually and speaks in a steadier voice. “Do it.”

Tony licks the head of his cock before sucking on it gently. This time he takes Peter in more slowly. When Peter’s cock nudges his throat he hums both in delight an because he knows how damn good it feels. Peter’s grip tightens in his hair. Tony wants to tell him to fuck his face, but he can’t. He cups Peter’s ass to pull him closer while he licks the underside of his cock. Peter bucks his hip tentatively and Tony welcomes it with a moan. He keeps Peter down until the sounds the boy makes tell him that he’s getting too close again.

“Tony, I want you so bad,” Peter moans. His legs are shaking. He holds himself up by gripping Tony’s hair. It hurts but in a good way. Tony strokes downs his side and his legs to motion him downwards.

“That’s it, come on,” he whispers as Peter kneels down. “I’ve got you,” he says, wrapping his arms around the boy. “How do you want to take me, baby?”  
Peter shivers and bites down on his shoulder before raising his head to look at Tony. “The way we were sitting on the bed. Want to be close to you,” he says. He’s still blushing, but he speaks more freely now. Tony cups his face and kisses him.

“We’ll be so close, Peter, so very close,” he promises, lost in Peter’s dark eyes. “There’s lube in the drawer, let me grab it.” Tony makes sure that Peter is steady before moving away from him. He steps out of his pants and leaves them lying on the floor. He fists his cock lightly, not that he needs it. There’s no way he loses his erection in Peter’s company.

He walks back to the side of the bed. The boy looks at him in awe. Tony helps him up. “Come on, love, let’s get you out of those clothes.” He guides Peter. He’s too far gone to coordinate his movements and Tony loves it. The knowledge that it was him who did this to the boy is intoxicating. Tony sits back down on the bed and pulls Peter into his lap. “Are you steady like this? Position yourself as you like, baby.”

“I’m good, I’m-” Peter’s words are reduced into a whimper when their cocks touch.

“Yes, god, so good, Peter,” Tony grunts in pleasure, too. “Want to lube me up?” he asks handing the tube to him. Peter looks at him in surprise. He seems to like when Tony gives control to him, but he doesn’t take it himself. Tony wonders how they could play with that, but now he couldn’t take any more teasing. Peter pushes some of the transparent liquid on his fingers and rubs his hands together so that it won’t be too cold.

Tony watches with bated breath as Peter takes him into his hand. When he closes his fingers around him, Tony’s head falls back, and he moans. But he doesn’t want to miss the sight of Peter’s delicate fingers prepping him for his ass, so he takes a deep breath and looks down. “Fuck,” he swears. “Look at how beautiful your pretty hands look on my dick. So soft, so perfect,” he praises. Peter lets out a keening moan and tries to get his own cock in his hand too, but Tony stops him with a firm grip on his wrist.

“Nah, baby, I wouldn’t last, and you want me to fill your pretty hole, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Peter whimpers. He becomes adorably flustered at Tony’s dirty talk.

“Do you want my fingers up there at first?” Tony asks him, holding Peter’s chin, making sure the boy looks at him. He’s surprised when Peter shakes his head.

“No. I want your cock,” Peter replies, his voice steadier than before. “I can take it, please, want you so bad…” There it is again, he’s trembling with desire and fuck, Tony can’t deny this boy a thing.

“God, yes, baby, lift yourself up, like that, yeah, you are doing so well,” Tony murmurs as he positions Peter so that his cock lines up with his entrance. He rubs his thumb along his tight rim a few times before telling Peter to move. “Come, baby, take me in, like you want to.”

He grunts loudly when his head pushes past Peter’s outer rim. The boy stills for a few seconds and it’s maddening. Tony can’t help whimpering and swearing under his breath. It’s so tight and so fucking delicious he can barely resist thrusting up. Then, Peter moves again and this time he doesn’t stop. Slowly, but without hesitation he lowers himself on Tony’s dick, until Tony’s buried balls deep inside him.

Peter is trembling and gripping Tony’s shoulders almost painfully. “Are you okay, baby?” Tony asks. “Take your time, you are perfect, you are so, so amazing, Peter,” Tony whispers into his ears, hugging him flush against his chest. Peter nudges against his head, this time forgetting about Tony’s bruise, in search of his lips. He’s unable to talk, but Tony understands what he wants and kisses him deeply. He moans loudly into their kiss when Peter moves his hips. He soon finds a rhythm, rocking sensually in Tony’s lap, his hole sucking Tony’s cock in as Peter raises and stretching tight around it as he lowers himself.

His nails dig deep into Tony’s shoulder, but he’s not complaining. He kisses Peter’s neck, grazing his teeth over the bitemark he’s left earlier. “So good,” he whispers in Peter’s ears before flicking his tongue inside. Peter cries out, bucking his hip hard so that Tony bottoms out in him. He groans in Peter’s ear and continues kissing him.

“Ah, yes, yes” Peter whimpers and he arches his back, pulling away from Tony, so that he can reach for his own cock, but Tony grabs his hand. He bites playfully on Peter’s earlobe before speaking.

“How about this? Only I can touch you now. Hm, Peter?” he whispers in his ear.

Peter nods his assent, but Tony won’t accept it. It seems that the boy likes this game, so he wants to give him more. “Answer, me.”

“Yes, I want… Only you… Only you can touch me now,” Peter gets out punctuating his words with the delicious rocking of his hips.

“That’s right, baby,” Tony agrees. “Tell me, do you want me to touch you?” He pulls away from Peter’s ear so that he can look at his face. He smirks when Peter shakes his head. The boy plays this game perfectly. “Patient, are you? Want to ride my cock all night, don’t you? Your hole feels so good around me- Fuck, fuck, Peter, yes, yesss” he finishes on a gasp as Peter raises so that Tony slips almost all the way out and then takes him all the way in in one swift movement. Once. Then a second time. By the third, Tony’s hand finds Peter’s hip to keep him in place as he raises up again.

He wants to guide Peter’s movement and the boy read his intentions perfectly. He stills, letting Tony’s thick head stretching his rim as Tony makes him move mere inches at a time. He raises Peter a little higher so that he can feel his hole gaping and closing around him. “Fuck, your hole wants me so badly, can you feel it?” Peter gasps out a yes before starting to plead.

“Please, Tony, fill me, please let me ride you, please…”

Tony hums, having to fight the urge to slam his cock deep into him. “Lean back. I’ve got you, lean back,” he tells Peter, bringing one of his hand to his back. Peter looks at him wide-eyed but complies. Tony holds him steadily, one hand firm on his hip and the other around his body. “Want me to move you on my cock, Peter?”

Peter gasps, his eyes lighting up with desire. “Yes,” he breathes, biting his bottom lip and looking down at themselves.

“Look at your pretty cock,” Tony murmurs as he pulls Peter closer, almost bottoming out, then pushes him away but not as much as before. “Look how hard you are for me. And so patient, still not asking me to touch you” he continues, angling his hips and Peter’s aiming for his prostate. He keeps moving Peter like this a few times and listen to his moans become more desperate with every thrust. “That feels good, right?” he teases, slowing his movements so as to keep the head of his cock pressed against that sweet spot in Peter.

Peter can’t resist to buck his hips. He stills almost immediately and glances at Tony to see his reaction. Tony smiles and rubs his thumb along his hip. “God, your moves are perfect. Want me to let go and let you ride my cock again?” He sees in Peter’s eyes the different desires battling each other. Peter parts his lips and takes a breath as if to start speaking, but his body betrays him, and he starts rocking his hips chasing the extasy that Tony’s cock gives him when it brushes against his sensitive prostate.

Tony laughs, a deep, almost feral sound as he feels Peter contracting around him. He’s still holding him but not guiding anymore. Peter’s movement are fast and erratic. He tightens his legs on the sides of Tony’s body and leans forward. It’s a different angle now, but just as pleasurable by the sounds of it. Peter’s really riding him now, breathless and sweaty, slamming down on Tony with more desperation each time.

Then, he slows down and flushes close to Tony, his fingers back in Tony’s hair, pulling him up for a kiss. It’s slow and sensuous. Tony hums contentedly when he feels Peter press even closer to him, rubbing his leaking cock against Tony’s stomach in search of friction. Tony smiles in their kiss, arching his back. Giving this boy what he craves is the greatest pleasure he can imagine. Judging by the beautiful sounds that escape him, Peter appreciates the gesture.

Tony thinks of asking Peter if he wants Tony’s hand on his cock, but that would mean breaking their kiss, so he suckles on Peter’s tongue instead. The boy scrapes at his scalp in response which sends a jolt of arousal down Tony’s body. He embraces Peter and lifts him up slightly so that he can slam into him as he wants to. Peter throws his head back and starts swearing unintelligibly.

Tony takes advantage of this new position to lick his way up on the boy’s beautiful, long neck. He kisses the base, taking care not to leave a mark, but his effort is in vain, because on the other side there are perfectly visible teeth marks from earlier. Peter is riding him positively wildly now, his cock trapped between their bodies. Even though Tony would want nothing more than to watch his boy come all over his stomach untouched, he’s ready to stroke his boy to ecstasy at his word.

Peter seems unable to speak, however. He looks beautiful like this, chestnut curls darkened by his sweat, eyes half shut, lips parted, gasping for breath, muscles tightening with every move he makes. And it feels so good inside him. But Tony’s desire of watching him wins out over the urge to close his eyes and lose himself completely inside the tight wet heat of Peter’s body.

He’s getting close, though and by the looks of it Peter is, too. He leans back too far, unbalancing himself but Tony’s arm is there to catch him. Tony steadies him and smiles in return of the grateful expression on his face. “I’ve got you. So eager, aren’t you. Want to come on my cock? Yeah? Go ahead, Peter, ride me.” And Peter does, he throws his head back and grabs Tony’s knees as he practically dances on Tony’s dick.

Tony hears the moment when he finds the perfect angle. Peter bites down on his lips and screws his eyes shut in concentration as each roll of his hips make Tony’s head brush against his prostate. Then, Peter slams down on him, the base of Tony’s cock stretching him even further before coming back up again. The sensual way he chases his pleasure on Tony is incredible.

Tony can’t hold off any longer. He lets his eyes fall shut and starts thrusting more forcefully than before, meeting Peter’s every move, perfectly synchronised. He feels the boy’s nail dig into his knees as he starts whimpering, his movements becoming erratic. Tony forces his eyes open. Peter must be close, and he’d rather die than miss the sight of his orgasm.

“Tony, please,” he moans, but before Tony could reach his cock, thick white spurts of come shoot across his chest. Tony looks up at Peter as he rides out his orgasm. His expression is that of utter bliss. His neck and face flushed, his eyelids shut, his mouth open in a silent gasp. His hole is clenching deliciously tight around Tony and he quickens his pace, chasing his own release while the boy peaks. Tony comes the moment Peter’s voice pitches highest. He fills the boy with his come in three deep thrusts before slowing down for fear of hurting him.

Peter leans against him limply his head on Tony’s shoulder, taking deep breaths. Tony just holds him, caressing his back. He pulls out, but otherwise doesn’t move. He can feel his come leaking out of Peter to his thigh. It’s an oddly intimate sensation. Tony buries his face in Peter’s hair. He hasn’t felt this happy in a long time. In fact, he’s not sure if he’s ever felt anything remotely like the intimate, sated bliss that envelops their entangled bodies, but that’s a way too dangerous idea.

It’s Peter who moves first. He raises his head and cups Tony’s face. He looks down at him with something in his eyes that hasn’t been there before. It’s not lust, not anymore. But it’s passionate and wild and Tony is powerless against it. They move at the same time, meeting in a kiss in which they try to tell each other everything they can’t with words. Tony has no idea how long it lasts, but they both look spent and otherworldly happy. There’s a voice inside Tony that it’s wrong, but he’s way past listening. He hugs Peter as he lies down and pulls the cover over them.

Next morning finds them tangled together. Peter has woken before Tony and he seems to have been watching him sleep for some time. Oddly, Tony doesn’t mind. He answers Peter’s greeting smile with a kiss. He doesn’t want to speak. Breaking the silence would be like admitting that their time together is up soon. Tony knows it and he hates it, but not more than he hates himself when his brains starts working out scenarios of how this could work.

His distress must show on his face because Peter reaches up and trails his fingers across his forehead. Tony can’t resist the soothing touch. He lets his eyes close and hums sadly even though he’s smiling. He heaves a deep sigh and opens his eyes. At the sight of Peter’s kind and concerned eyes the heavy feeling of guilt settles in his chest. He’s ruining the last of their time together – even if Peter doesn’t know it. So, Tony takes another breath and smiles at the boy.

“Morning, beautiful,” he says, brushing a few strands away from Peter’s forehead. “Slept well?”

“Hmm, yes,” Peter answers, snuggling closer to him. Tony puts his arms around him and nuzzles his hair, breathing in his scent, trying to memorise it forever. He’s not sure if it would be a blessing or a punishment if it worked. He holds Peter like this for several long minutes. He tries not to think. The rise and fall of Peter’s chest against him helps, but eventually Tony pulls away.

“Are you hungry?” he asks, peering down at Peter.

“God, yes!” comes the reply immediately.

Tony chuckles and sits up. Peter doesn’t move. Tony looks down at him but forces himself to turn away for fear of getting an appetite to having Peter for breakfast. He stands up and stretches, aware of the boy’s eyes on him. He glances above his shoulder as he steps to the wardrobe.

“Want to take a shower while I make breakfast?” He doesn’t wait for Peter’s answer though, before pulling out a towel for him.

“Don’t you want to join me?” Peter asks with a shy smile. After what they’ve done last night, Tony didn’t expect to see it again.

“I had something more substantial in mind for breakfast,” he remarks and pulls on a t-shirt.

Peter blushes and laughs. He stands up and walks to the bathroom door but pauses on the threshold. He turns and watches Tony get dressed. As Tony starts walking to the door, Peter gazes at him expectantly. “What, baby boy?” Tony teases giving him a once-over. Peter smirks and pulls him into a deep kiss without a word. They both smile when they separate.

Tony’s surprised that it’s easier to keep the unwanted thoughts away than he dared hope. It’s not that scrambled eggs requires that much of his concentration, more like the fact that he still smells of Peter and it conjures one memory of last night after the other. The toasts just come out when Peter appears in the kitchen door. He wears nothing but a towel around his hips.

“You don’t think you are going to eat like that?” Tony asks, stepping towards him.

“Why not?” Peter asks so innocently that Tony almost falls for it.

“For one thing, you’ll catch a cold and for another I’m still intent on eating real breakfast and not your perfect little ass,” Tony explains, guiding Peter back to the bedroom.

“Come on, you don’t even see my ass like this.”

“Thank god for that,” Tony grins holding out a clean t-shirt for Peter. “Yours is still wet.”

He doesn’t stay while Peter gets dressed. The mere knowledge that Peter won’t be wearing anything under his sweatpants makes it nearly impossible to walk away. Tony sets the table for two, but he can’t resist pulling Peter into his lap when he reappears in the kitchen. The boy laughs but doesn’t protest, so they end up eating straight from the pan, feeding each other more often than not.

Once they are finished, Tony folds Peter’s still wet clothes and give them back to him. Then, he holds out his hand. “Give me your car keys.”  
“What? Why? How will I get home?”

“I called you a cab. It’ll be here in 10,” he says gazing to the clock on the wall. “And I’m a mechanic. I’ll take a look at your car, bring it back to you.”

Peter’s eyes go wide. He doesn’t say anything but steps up to Tony and kisses him deeply. The man gives in. It’s probably their last kiss. Even though the thought hurts, it can’t take away the pleasure of Peter’s lips on his.

“Thank you,” the boy says with a bright smile. “I’ll write down my address for you.”

Fuck. So, trusting. So foolishly trusting…

“You shouldn’t. Give me some place near you where you can pick it up. A parking lot. Preferably guarded. Doesn’t want to polish up your ride for it to get stolen right away.” He tries to keep it easy and casual, but he doesn’t miss the hurtful look that flashes in Peter’s eyes.

Peter hands him the keys then turns away. Tony prays that he be wrong, but he could have sworn he saw tears well up in those lovely dark eyes. He hates himself for it, but he doesn’t reach out. He wouldn’t be able to let Peter go if he saw his painful expression and those tender, almost loving eyes. But he must let him go. The boy is underage, and he can’t risk starting anything with him…

…not for at least another five months. Tony takes a step and hugs Peter from behind. He leans close to his ears so that his words are no more than a whisper. “I’m sorry, Peter. Can’t tempt myself like that. We can’t have this.” This is where he needs to stop. He won’t. He knows he won’t, has known it since Peter stepped into his room last night. “Not yet. Come, find me when you’re eighteen if you still want to.”

He can’t see Peter’s face, but his shaky sigh tells him everything. The honking of a car sounds from outside. Peter turns and presses a kiss on his lips. It’s wet, but his eyes are bright with a smile.

“See you in one hundred and forty days,” Peter says cheerfully, opening the door.

“Counted, have you?”

“I’m smart, couldn’t you tell?” Peter shouts back laughing from halfway down the stairs.

“And yet you’ll come back,” Tony whispers to himself, shaking his head but unable to stop the hopeful smile spreading on his face.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr with a moodboard for it. You can find it at: https://areluctantsblog.tumblr.com/post/183672747794/ex-con-bar-ownertony-and-strandedpeter
> 
> The title is a quote from a poem.
> 
> Thanks for reading! :)


End file.
